


Say It

by chinesebakery



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fierce Jemma, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heartache, Hydra labs are pretty good actually, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Sassy Fitz, Working for the enemy, all's well that ends well, season 3 finale speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesebakery/pseuds/chinesebakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz is kidnapped by Hydra to recreate and expand his work on Coulson's hand, but he doesn't stay captured long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agentcalliope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentcalliope/gifts).



> This ficlet was written as a birthday gift for the awesome agentcalliope / fitzsimmonsgarbage so : happy birthday!  
> And many thanks to welldonefitz for beta-reading this super secretly :)

Fitz brought down his tool on the pristine surface of the lab bench in an exasperated gesture and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was having a _hell_ of a day.

Being captured and locked up in a Hydra facilities, under orders to design some repugnant half-flesh, half-machine body armor for _It_ to inhabit –as if he were a trained monkey who performed on command– was aggravating enough. But having to do so with an alien death monster endlessly hovering within his line of vision? Now _that_ was threatening to seriously ruin his cool.

Not to mention that Hydra's lab was lusciously equipped, more spacious and all around superior to every Shield equivalent he'd ever known. Who did they think they were?

Of course, Fitz had no intention whatsoever to fulfill It's twisted Robocop fantasy. He was biding his time, in the dubious eventuality someone was coming to his rescue –the team had been badly hit and there were, no doubt, other priorities. Annoying the creature in the meantime was mostly meant for his personal enjoyment.

"Aww, Fitz," the thing wearing Ward's body said in a mock plaintive voice. "If I didn't know you any better, I'd be tempted to think you were stalling on purpose. That would be a very dangerous thing to do."

"Maybe you should listen to your instincts," Fitz bit out. "Find out if I work any faster, once reduced to a pile of gooey bones."

"You may be smart but believe it or not," It said, leaning in to whisper in Fitz's earn, "you're not irreplaceable."

"I'm well aware, thanks. Is this what you do, now? Demotivational speaker for evil goons?"

"You _are_ aware of that, yes," the creature said as its face lit up with malice. "You know who doesn't like to waste any time?

"If it's a part of you, I would really appreciate if you'd hand him the mike."

"Our old friend, Jemma Simmons." The thing smirked, clearly pleased with itself. "An overachiever in _every domain,_ that one. Know what I mean?"

It took a gigantic effort on his part, but Fitz's face remained expressionless, if not for a slight sneer, as he turned to look the face of his former mate and enemy right in the eyes.

"I'm not sure, with you being so subtle. But why don't you regal me with tales of your sexual prowess? As it turns out, I have nothing but time."

The thing chuckled, waving a finger in his direction. "She did talk about you a lot in the early days, I'll give you that. But as soon as we got _cozy_ –"

The next moment, the door burst open –literally burst under the force of a quake– and gave way to Daisy, May and Jemma, who was armed with something that looked like a tranquilizer gun. Fitz watched her square her jaw, aim neatly at Ward and shoot, hitting him with the serum right in the neck.

They all watched, transfixed, as the monster staggered for a second and fell, as his entire body started to dissolve, until there was nothing left of him but a mount of grey sand. Right until the moment his face became unrecognizable, it didn't depart his sinister smile.

***

The moment he set foot on the base, Fitz was ordered to get a full check up from the medical bay. He was covered in bruises and his writs bore marks of laceration from the bounds he'd been set up with after his capture, but otherwise, he wasn't seriously hurt. A cut on his cheekbone needed stitches, apparently, but he could barely feel it anymore.

He couldn't feel much of anything, really, not even relief that it was all over.

Then came the time for the obligatory and interminable debrief with Coulson which seemingly couldn't wait. Fitz sure thought it did, now all the remaining heads of Hydra had been either cut or atomized, but it was as good an occasion as any to slip the Director a snide remark or two regarding the superiority of the enemy's labs.

When, at long last, Fitz was left alone, he felt too agitated to consider resting. He'd been awake for almost 48 hours now, but his restlessness ran too deep to be tampered even by exhaustion.

Perhaps he should try convincing Coulson to T.A.H.I.T.I. the past year out of his brain. It would surely be a tough sell,  but otherwise… He just didn't know where to go from that point on.

***

He was working in the server room, reconfiguring one machine after another, trying to get their faulty comms back up, when Jemma came to find him. He froze when he first heard her softly call his name, then resumed typing in lines of command.

Jemma sat on the floor next to where he was kneeling, facing him, and carefully touched a finger to his cheek, right above the bandage.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it's fine," he said, and was instantly mildly annoyed that his voice sounded so damn weary.

"I talked to the medic, she says all your wounds are superficial. You'll be healed in no time," she said with a forced brightness he found frankly irritating.

When he sat back and eyed her suspiciously, opting not to reply, Jemma let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"I wish you would just– _say it._ "

"Say what?" He raised his eyes this time, and found her face bore an expression of anguish.

"The reason you're upset. Did he– _it_ . Did _it_ say– something?"

Fitz smiled sadly, shaking his head.

"Do you really think there's anything he could say that I haven't pictured a thousand times in my head? I'll have you know I have a fairly active imagination."

Jemma couldn't help but wince.

"You're allowed to be angry, you know?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jemma."

"I'm not saying I did, but… Just because we weren't–" she waved hesitantly between them, "doesn't mean you're not entitled to whatever it is you're feeling."

"I'm not angry, I'm–" Fitz hesitated before shaking his head. His resignation and hopelessness were better kept for himself.

Jemma's gaze slipped to the floor as she nodded.

"I thought we were in a better place now," she noted. "When I suggested we started over, I didn't mean– I never thought you'd want to erase everything that happened before."

"Really?" Fitz asked, sounding fairly curious. "Between my mangled brain, your extended vacation on another planet, _him_ , losing half the team and going to war with inhumans everywhere, I can barely remember what _before_ was."

"We're both _here_. War is over. The good guys won," she waved with a forced smile. "So maybe this is as good as any to clear the air."

"I don't know that there's anything left to clear, Jemma."

"I thought I lost you today," she said fiercely. "When they took you, I thought for sure that was it this time. And if it had been, I would never have forgiven myself for not… Making a stand. So, I'm gonna make it now, alright?"

"What–"

"You've been my best friends for so long, it's easy to hide behind that title. But the truth is, you're not my best friend anymore. You're my best _everything_ and I wish I'd realised before that I was in love with you – before the pod, before we graduated, even– but just because it took me so long doesn't make it any less true. I love you. _Only_ you. The rest is irrelevant."

"Jem–"

"Look, if you're no longer–" Jemma paused, taking a large breath. "If you're no longer _interested_ , if you don't think about me that way anymore, it's okay. I get it. I just wanted to make it clear that I... That I am. Interested, I mean."

Fitz gulped, looking very much like a deer caught in the headlight. There was a long pause, allowing for Jemma's heart and sense of defiance to start dropping, until he seemed to shake himself out of his trance.

"I am. I am very, very interested. I've never been interested in anything else, really."

Jemma huffed a sigh of relief.

"If I remember correctly, you asked me on a date," she said with a shy smile of encouragement.

Fitz nodded resolutely. "Do you want to get dinner? I mean, most restaurants are probably closed at the moment, but we could–"

"I didn't mean right now," she chuckled. "You look like you could use a good night sleep or two."

"You're not wrong," Fitz conceded. Even though he suddenly felt lighter than he had in months, he could feel the wariness down to his bones.

Jemma got to her feet and held out a hand.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," she said. Then, taking in his widening eyes, she shook her head in amusement. "Really, Fitz? I'll tell you what: sleep first, dinner later, and we'll see about _that_ after, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed bemusedly, and grabbed her hand, ready to follow where she led.


End file.
